Drawn To You
by Paperdoll
Summary: An accidental love potion throws Hermione and Draco together for a week, and they hate every second of it. But, when the spell is finally removed, do they really want to be apart?


_Disclaimer: JK Rowling's, not mine. No money is being made from this, and I claim no ownership of anything. I've also stolen some lines from Buffy. Brownie points if you can spot them._

_A/N: My first fic for a while, I know, but I'm at college doing AS levels now, and the teachers are piling obscene amounts of work on us, which, unfortunately, has to come first. This fic is set in 7th year, and…it's not slash! It's a Hermione/Draco fic, so I can promise you angst, melodrama, and a whole lot of fluff! Nothing sordid, but some bad language. I'm not sure whether it's any good, because I didn't quite know how to go about it. I had to post something and it helped me get over my writers block._

**Drawn To You**

"…And Granger, you can partner Malfoy." Snape concluded.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and Ron, who looked sympathetic, then trudged across the dungeon to where Draco sat, looking almost as put out as she felt. She sat down and ignored him as Snape finished instructing them about the Heating potion that they were about to make.

"Now you should be especially careful while brewing this one," he was saying." It requires _absolute_ precision. The slightest mistake can result in some rather…unpleasant side effects."

As she chopped up a slimy dragon tonsil, Hermione looked wistfully across the dungeon to where the Gryffindors worked. Harry was deep in conversation with Seamus, while Ron was frantically trying to stop Neville from adding too many porcupine quills. She felt a tap on her shoulder.

"When you're quite ready…" Malfoy said, looking pointedly at the messy pile in front of her.

"Oh, right," Hermione quickly tipped the disgusting chopped tonsil into the bubbling potion, which hissed and emitted a puff of foul smelling smoke. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"I meant, could you hand me the knife. The tonsils weren't meant to go in till last. To think I actually credited you with having some brains, Mudblood."

Hermione looked horrified, ignoring the insult. "Oh! Um… it's Ok, I know how to fix it."

"Well thank goodness for that."

"Do you ever say anything that isn't sarcastic, Malfoy?" 

"No," he said sincerely.

"You've just contradicted yourself," she told him smugly, turning back to the ingredients and beginning to measure out some possum saliva.

He thought for a moment, then grinned, which unnerved her. "How do you know I wasn't being sarcastic then as well?"

She shrugged. "Shut up and pass me the mugwort."

A while later, Snape called out, "Your potions should be finished by now. I want you each to test them by taking a small sip. If you have managed to do it right," he looked pointedly towards Neville and Ron's cauldron, which was spitting ferociously, "you should feel warm for the next couple of hours or so."

Hermione looked dubiously at her own cauldron. She was sure it wasn't meant to be quite so red. In fact, other people's looked quite orange by comparison. As she contemplated it, a yell rang out from the other side of the dungeon. Her head jerked up in time to see Neville hopping around yelping, bright yellow flames leaping from his open mouth.

"Does nothing I say penetrate your thick skull, Longbottom? I clearly told you only to add three porcupine quills." Snape walked over to Neville and performed a quick dousing charm. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and you'll need to go to the hospital wing about those burns." Neville rushed out of the room, clutching his jaw and whimpering.

Hermione looked sympathetically at Ron, who was now eyeing his own beaker full of potion worriedly.

"Do you want to try ours first, Granger, or shall I?" Malfoy drawled.

"Be my guest," Hermione snapped, unwilling to drink anything that contained both saliva and tonsils.

"Oh no. Ladies first."

Hermione sighed and poured a little of the potion into two beakers, handing one to Malfoy. "Cheers," he grinned nastily. Together they raised their beakers and drank.

For a moment, nothing happened. The potion tasted vaguely metallic, like when you bite your lip and draw blood. Hermione opened her mouth to ask Malfoy why it hadn't worked, but before the words could come out, the strangest feeling overtook her.

She was suddenly very aware of her heart beating frantically. Her head pounded and she felt inexplicably dizzy. There was a powerful kind of aching in her chest, a sort of hollow feeling. From the look on Malfoy's face, he was feeling the same thing.

An overpowering urge stole through her veins, entrancing her senses one by one. She struggled to fight it but it was too strong. Helplessly, she leaned forward and kissed Malfoy hard on the lips.

The moment their lips met, the ache in her chest melted away. She found herself clinging to him like a lifebelt in a stormy sea. He was holding her in his arms as though he would never let go, his mouth clamped desperately onto hers. All she knew was that nothing had ever felt more right than his soft, warm lips pressing on her own. A tiny, niggling voice in the back of her mind told her how wrong this was. That it was just the potion working, and she didn't really wanting to be kissing Malfoy as though her life depended on it. But the potion was stronger, sweeping any rationale from the rest of her brain as they clung together.

Eventually, she managed to gather all her remaining willpower, and pulled away. It hurt. All she wanted was to fall back into his embrace. He clutched at her, but forced himself to lower his hands. She met his horrified gaze, only now aware of the deathly silence that had fallen over the room as every pair of eyes focused on them. Someone giggled nervously.

Hermione stepped backwards, and took a deep, shuddering breath. Suddenly she spat forcefully onto the floor and scrubbed at her mouth with her sleeve. "Malfoy lips," she said shakily. "Lips of Malfoy. Oh yuck!"

Most people laughed at that, and relieved chatter broke out around the room again.

"Well it wasn't exactly pleasant for me either," Hermione heard Malfoy say, but she ignored him, her cheeks flaming, her mind still whirling with shock and embarrassment.

Snape's voice rang out, sounding faintly amused. "And that was one of the possible side effects I mentioned earlier. Ten points from Gryffindor - you must have added the dragon tonsil too soon. For homework, I want an essay on the various types of Heating potion and their uses, to be handed in next lesson. You may go."

Hermione grabbed her books and bag. Without glancing at Malfoy, she hurried across the dungeon to where Harry and Ron stood by the door, waiting for her.

"Some side effect!" Ron said her, grinning. "Please tell me it was just the potion that made you do that, not some hidden passion that you couldn't control any longer!"

Hermione laughed, finally beginning to calm down. "Please, Ron! Credit me with _some_ taste!"

"At least you don't have to wait for the stupid Heating potion to wear off. I'm stifling under these robes!"

They stepped out into the corridor and Hermione stopped dead. It was as though she had walked into a wall. A sharp, insistent pain tugged in her chest and she stumbled backward, dizziness threatening to overwhelm her.

"Hermione?" Harry's worried voice seemed to be reaching her from a great distance away, dulled by the buzzing in her ears. "Hermione? Are you alright?"

She tried to steady herself against the doorframe, gasping for breath. The blackness at the edge of her vision closed in and her legs bucked beneath her. She never felt herself hit the floor.

***

The first thing Hermione became aware of was a glaring white light on the other side of her eyelids, causing her skull to throb with knife like pain. She groaned and rolled over, realising that she was lying down. Cautiously, she peeled open her eyes a fraction, squinting as they adjusted to the light. 

The familiar surroundings of the hospital wing greeted her. Relieved to know where she was, she sat up gingerly and looked out of the window in front of her bed. The lake was bathed in sunlight, so she couldn't have been out for long. But what had happened?

Suddenly, she noticed that hers was not the only breathing sounding in the room. She quickly glanced to her left and there, on the next bed, sat Draco. He was leaning against the pillows, apparently concentrating on a book in his lap. In a rush, everything came back to her. The messed up potion, the kiss, the dizziness.

"You're awake, are you?" Draco said without looking up.

"Obviously," Hermione said edgily. "What are you doing here?"

"Playing Quidditch."

Before she could think up a satisfactory reply to that, Dumbledore walked in. "Ah," the headmaster said. "Mr Malfoy and I have been wondering when you would wake."

Hermione gaped. "But what…what happened to me, professor? Why is _he_ here?"

"It's a little complicated Miss Granger, and I don't think you're going to like the explanation," Dumbledore said.

"I don't care!" Hermione stated, then blushed. "I mean, I'm sorry sir, but I just want to know."

"Of course," Dumbledore continued mildly. "You will remember the unusual side effect of your Heating potion in Professor Snape's class?" Hermione nodded, anxiety starting in her stomach. "Well it appears that you made a slightly larger mistake than previously assumed. You seem to have created a form of…love potion."

Hermione's jaw dropped in absolute horror. She took a shuddering gasp of air, and when she spoke, her voice was unsteady. "But…so…I'm, I'm in love with…Malfoy? Oh my God! No, you must be making a mistake. I can't stand Malfoy! I…"

"If I didn't know better, I'd be offended," Draco interrupted, smirking.

"I'm afraid there is no mistake. You are in love with him and Mr Malfoy is in love with you. You may not begin to feel the full effects of the potion for several hours."

"But why did I collapse?"

"You tried to leave the room. A part of this particular potion, specifies that the affected two must remain in the same room until the spell is removed."

"It is…possible to remove it though, isn't it?" Hermione asked, clenching her fists subconsciously.

"Of course." Dumbledore's reply made her heart leap. "But unfortunately the cure will take at least a week to take effect. For which time, you will of course have to remain in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's superb care. She has already prepared the first dose of the potion that will cure you, which will have to be taken regularly. Your things have already been brought from Gryffindor Tower." He nodded at her trunk sitting at the foot of her bed. 

Hermione's spirits plummeted again. "Oh God," she moaned. "I'm going to miss a whole week of class!"

Dumbledore smiled, "I'm sure I can arrange for your work to be brought up here for you each day. I know you both have your NEWTs to think about." He stood up, "I must leave you now in order to attend a rather important meeting. I'll check on you later." He walked out of the room.

"So I have to spend a week in here with you," she said to Draco dully. "And in a few hours I shall fall madly in love with you and have to spend the rest of the week restraining myself by remembering that it's only the potion."

"You make it sound like you're the only one who'll be suffering. I'll have exactly the same problem." Draco reminded her. "I hope you don't snore."

"Just don't talk to me," she snarled, flopping back down and turning away from him. She heard the rustle of pages as he returned to his book. Somehow it bothered her that he hadn't replied. _Please tell me that's not the potion starting to work already_, she thought as she drifted into sleep.

***

The curtains were pulled shut when she next awoke so the room was lit only by a candle on each of their bedside tables. Hermione sat up, noting that the thudding pain behind her eyes had dulled to a faint aching. She felt a pair of eyes on her and turned. Draco was watching her closely.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

He looked embarrassed. "You're cute when you're asleep," he told her

"Oh God," she moaned, clutching her head. "Here we go. Remember Malfoy, no matter what I say over the next week, it's the potion talking. I. Don't. Like. You."

"I'm not exactly your biggest fan either."

She stood up and walked to the window. Pulling the curtains a little way apart, she could see the moon reflected in the lake and the branches of the trees in the Forbidden Forest waving gently in the dark. _I can deal with this,_ she thought; _I've been through far worse situations than this one._

"Romantic, isn't it?" A voice behind her made her jump and spin around.

"It would be if I was with anyone else but you Malfoy," she informed him, painfully aware that he was standing less than a foot away from her. _It's the potion_, she warned herself. _Back away now Hermione, you don't really want to do this._

Their gazes locked. His eyes were the palest grey she had ever seen, with dancing flecks of silver catching the candlelight. Her heart began to flutter and jump wildly. One step was all it would take. One step forward and they would be kissing again. "I…" she stuttered, forcing herself to break the tension of the moment.

He opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. Instead, he shrugged and walked back to his bed. Hermione returned to her own bed and sat down on the edge of it, facing him.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," she said softly.

"Not my problem," he grunted.

She frowned slightly. "It is, you know. Don't tell me you don't feel it too. Just now…"

He lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes hard and cold again. "Don't try to tell me what I'm feeling, Granger. You may be having a hard time resisting me, but I'm doing just fine."

It hurt to hear him talk to her like that, although she knew he was lying. She decided against pursuing the matter. If he wanted to deny that anything was wrong, that was fine with her.

"Um," she said uncomfortably. "I need to get changed for bed."

"Go right ahead, I'm not stopping you." The usual smug laughter was back in his voice.

She shot a death glare at him.

"Joking," he said hastily. "Don't be so defensive. I won't look." He turned his back on her and opened his book.

"Can't I just go into the bathroom?" Hermione whined.

"Have to stay in the same room, remember," he told her. "So, unless you want me to come in there with you…"

She didn't reply. Having pulled on her nightdress as quickly as she could, she said, "You can look now."

Draco turned back around and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I hate to have to say this, but speaking of bathrooms…"

"Oh no."

"Come on Granger, it's not like you have to look or anything. Unless you want to of course."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "It's bad enough that I have to hear it. I'll be traumatised for life." She got up and, grimacing, followed his pyjama clad figure to the bathroom.

It was going to be a long week.

***

Harry, Ron and Ginny came to visit Hermione as often as possible over the next few days, and she had to suffer through Draco's visits from his obnoxious Slytherin friends. Crabbe and Goyle had taken to leering at her disturbingly every time they entered the room, and Pansy Parkinson shot her evil glares at every opportunity, as though she had done this on purpose.

She hardly said a word to Draco, other than the necessary basics. It was easier to resist the pull of the potion if she pretended he wasn't there. He seemed equally satisfied with that idea, and hardly said a word to her either. He didn't even seem to want to insult her, which she supposed was a bonus.

This mutual silence lasted until Wednesday afternoon, when Hermione was sitting as far away from Draco as she could get, while still in the same room, talking to Ginny.

"He's pretty cute, you know," Ginny said out of the blue, nodding in Draco's general direction. "You could have picked a worse person to fall in love with."

Hermione's eyebrows almost reached her hairline. "You have got to be kidding!" she gasped. "Malfoy? He's so horrible!"

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, snickering, "But he has got lovely hair, and you have to admit he looks hot when he's playing Quidditch."

"Tell me you don't fancy him, Ginny, please." Hermione said, astonished.

"Well I would, but, you know, gay now."

"Oh god, yeah. I'm so sorry!" Hermione couldn't believe she'd forgotten. Ginny had come out just a few weeks previously. "So how's it going with Parvati anyway?"

"Not great actually," Ginny sighed. "I think she secretly fancies Lavender."

Hermione was quick to reassure her friend, who always had lacked in self-esteem. "Never. Why would she want Lavender when she's got you? You're a much better catch!"

Ginny smiled. "Thanks Hermione." She checked her watch, "Oh shit, I'm late for Divination! See you later." She jumped up and rushed out of the room.

"Bye Gin," Hermione called after her. She returned to sit on her bed and got out her quill and unfinished Arithmancy essay. She noticed that Draco was staring at her again.

"What?" she snapped peevishly.

"I couldn't help overhearing some of your conversation over there," he explained. "If you don't want to be listened to, try lowering your voices. She's right, you know. I do look good on a broomstick."

Hermione snorted derisively and turned back to her books.

"You know," Draco mused. "I never thought a Weasley could sink any lower."

Hermione's head snapped up. "Just what do you mean by that?" she said threateningly.

"I mean Ginny's perverted 'relationship' with the Patil girl, of course. I wonder if she sells tickets for people to come and watch…"

Hermione saw red. She stood up, walked calmly across the room to Draco's bed and slapped him across the face with all her strength. He reeled back, clutching his cheek with one hand as a brilliant red handprint began to form on it.

"You've always liked doing that, haven't you Mudblood?" he sneered, radiating contempt. "Maybe you're so defensive because you just as sick as she is. Maybe that explains why you're so bloody frigid."

"Shut up," Hermione hissed, cursing the hot, angry tears that welled up in her eyes. "I would rather this potion had linked me to Filch than to _you_. You disgust me."

"Hit a sore spot, have I?"

"Ginny is not sick or perverted, and you really do have an over inflated opinion of yourself if you think I must be gay just because I don't want to sleep with an obnoxious bastard like you."

"See, there's your infamous charm again Granger."

"Piss off."

Wishing with all her heart that she could run out of this damned room and never set eyes on Draco again, Hermione did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She sat back on her bed and continued with her essay.

***

Hermione awoke early the next morning, having spent a restless night dreaming of Draco, who was, of course, the last person she wanted to dream about at the moment.

She opened her eyes and screamed.

A pair of silver-grey eyes that had been hovering only inches from her own, immediately backed away, widening in surprise.

"Malfoy!" she gasped, "You idiot. You scared me half to death." She narrowed her eyes. "_What_ were you doing exactly?"

"You expect me not to watch you sleeping? I am in love with you, remember."

"Well I'm in love with you too but you don't catch me staring at you like an adoring house elf!" she shuddered. "And, in love or not, I still haven't forgiven you for last night and I still think you're a bastard."

To Hermione's surprise, Draco began to laugh.

"What?" she asked testily.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous we sound?" he said.

Hermione considered it "We do, don't we?" she admitted, and let out a peculiar, high-pitched giggle. "You're completely obnoxious, but I can't stay angry with you. I hate your guts, but I love you. How messed up is that?" They let their laughter subside into an uneasy silence.

"I'm not really such a bastard, you know." Draco said suddenly. "I didn't mean what I said about you, or about Ginny."

"Yes you did," Hermione countered. "Now it's just the potion talking."

"No. I know I would never say this under normal circumstances, so maybe it is partially the potion, but what I'm saying is truthful. I didn't mean a word of it." His eyes were pleading with her to listen to him but Hermione was still sceptical.

"What reason could I possibly have to believe you?" she said slowly. "If you didn't mean it, why did you say it in the first place?"

"You have no reason, but I'm asking you to anyway. I said it because I'm a Malfoy; because Ginny is a Weasley and you are a….you are not a pure blood."

"That doesn't make any sense Malfoy."

"I know," he said sadly. "But that's how it is. Nothing matters more to a Malfoy than bloodline and the honour of the family. A Malfoy must always remain loyal and uphold the Malfoy values, which include hating all Weasleys and Mudbloods," Draco seemed to be talking more to himself than to Hermione now. "My father has drummed that into me since I was old enough to listen to him. I am a Malfoy and I must never forget it. Weakness is not tolerated."

Hermione suddenly found herself feeling deeply sorry for Draco. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. "I…"

He didn't let her speak. "You see. Now I've broken one of the Malfoy codes. A Malfoy should never allow himself to be pitied. Not to mention fraternising with a Mudblood."

"I don't pity you Draco," Hermione said carefully. "I did for a moment, but I can't. It is up to you how you behave. Malfoy or not, you are perfectly capable of judging your own actions. You can't hide behind your name as an excuse for being as awful to anyone as you always are. You are Draco. You are not simply "A Malfoy""

"I know," Draco said. "But seventeen years of bad upbringing don't disappear overnight."

"So you're telling me that you've been a good person all along, but never shown it because of your family?"

"When you put it like that, I admit it sounds a bit unbelievable. But, yes."

"Well, you'll have to do better than that."

"Fine. Maybe I wasn't always a good person. In fact, maybe I was often a damn horrible person. But I'm trying to make amends. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Of course it does, I just can't forgive you everything you've ever done to me and my friends, just because you finally decide to say sorry."

"Actually I wasn't saying sorry. I would, but Malfoys don't apologise, for anything."

"Malfoys don't apologise? What sort of family motto is that?"

"One that only my father could think up."

"You've already broken enough "Malfoy codes" tonight. One more won't hurt," she told him, a glint in her eye.

"Good point Granger, maybe you do have a brain after all." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. For everything." For a moment she didn't say anything. Draco half-smiled. "Not good enough for you?" he asked.

In response, Hermione leaned forward and kissed him softly. He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "I thought you were trying to resist effects of the potion," he said.

"I was," she replied. "But since you've freakily turned into Mr Nice Guy, I've been beginning to wonder what the point is. We're stuck loving each other for the next three days, so why torture ourselves by staying apart? We might as well make the most of it."

Draco's face split into a grin. "You realise I'll probably turn back into my old obnoxious bastard self when the potion wears off and you'll regret every minute of this."

"So then I can go back to hating you," Hermione said archly. "Two conditions though. We don't tell anyone."

"Fine by me," Draco told her. He ran his hand down the side of her face, before pulling her towards him and kissing her on the lips. "And what was the other condition?"

"We don't go any further than kissing. If I am going to regret this, I don't want to have too much to regret."

"Deal," he said, looking slightly put out.

"That was easier than I thought," Hermione said suspiciously. "Should I be offended that you didn't protest?"

Draco snickered. "Women. You're all bloody impossible. I didn't protest because if there's one thing I've learned about you in the last few days, it's not to argue with you when you get _that_ look on your face."

"What look?" Hermione shrilled indignantly. "I do not have a look. And I'm not impossible…Mmmph!" She was silenced by Draco putting one hand gently over her mouth.

"Hermione, just shut up and kiss me," he said, laughing.

So she did.

_Ginny's right. He is bloody gorgeous_, Hermione thought to herself as she sank into Draco's arms, feeling happier than she had done in a long time. _And he called me Hermione_.

Maybe this week would go by a little faster than she had first thought.

***

Two days later, Harry and Ron were to be found walking up the stairs towards the hospital wing, chatting about Quidditch teams, as usual. As they approached the door, the conversation was threatening to turn into an argument, with Harry pointing out the merits of the Wimbourne Wasps, while Ron stubbornly stood up for the Chudley Cannons.

They walked into the room together, Ron carrying Hermione lunch tray. They paused in their bickering and looked up in order to say hello, but stopped dead in their tracks. The tray clattered to the floor, spraying pumpkin juice and tuna salad everywhere.

On one of the beds, Hermione and Draco pulled away from each other, panting and very red in the face. Draco got to his feet and backed away slowly, buttoning his shirt as he went. Hermione just sat there, a look of abject horror on her face, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her hair was sticking out in all direction and her lips were swollen from kissing. It was she who found her voice first.

"H-Harry. Ron. I can explain…"

Harry looked from her to Draco, and back to her again. "I don't think there's anything for you to explain Hermione," he said quietly. "It's just the love potion, right?" There was a desperate quality in his voice.

"Of course it is," she told him. "You know it is."

He blinked and nodded. "We'll just…come back at a better time."

"Yeah," Ron agreed in a shell-shocked voice. "A better time." He shot Draco a look of utter disgust. "See you later Hermione." They left as quickly as humanly possible, leaving Hermione and Draco staring at each other awkwardly for several interminable minutes.

Suddenly, Draco sniggered. "You can explain? That's original."

Hermione grimaced and buried her face in her hands. "Oh god. Why did they have to walk in just then? Why?"

At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey entered holding two steaming goblets. "Time for your potion," she said, handing them a goblet each. "This is the last dose. Within a few moments of taking it, you will both be fully cured, which I'm sure will please you."

Hermione raised her goblet and drank; the thick potion burning slightly as it went down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Draco do the same thing. They handed their goblets back to the nurse and she left them to pack the few possessions that were lying around back into their trunks.

They worked in awkward silence, and, when she was finished, Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, watching Draco. _It's over_, she told herself, waiting for the feeling of relief. But it didn't come. A hollow sort of emptiness had settled in her chest. All she could think was that any minute, Draco would walk out of the room, and they would go back to being enemies. She would go back to Gryffindor, and he to Slytherin, and they would probably hardly say another civil word to each other until they graduated, when then they would probably never see each other again, except at school reunions.

The hollow feeling turned into desolation. Although she was sure the potion had worn off, Hermione knew that she didn't want things to work out like that. She didn't want Draco to leave.

Finally, he took hold of the handle of his trunk and dragged it over to the door. Then, he turned back to Hermione. She stood up.

"I suppose I'll see you around then," he said, looking at the floor. Hermione was glad he didn't meet her eyes, as she didn't want him to see the tear that had squeezed out and was trickling down her cheek. He probably hated her again already.

"Yeah," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "See you around."

He turned to go, but his feet didn't move. Abruptly, he spun back around. "Hermione," he said. "It…it wasn't just the potion, was it?"

At this, she couldn't hold back the tears any more, and they began to flood down her cheeks. "No," she said desperately. "No, it wasn't."

He moved back towards her. "You're one of the greatest people I've ever met Hermione," he said unsteadily. "You're clever and funny and beautiful…and I think I could love you."

"Don't Draco," she cut him off, cursing the sobs that were blocking her throat. "Don't do this to me. You know that this can't work."

"Why?" he demanded, "Why can't we make it work?"

"Because we're just too different. Because you're a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor. Because…"

"Fuck that." A rogue tear ran down his own cheek, and he brushed it away angrily. "See, there's another Malfoy code I'm breaking for you. Malfoys don't cry." His laugh was tinged with bitterness. "Hermione, please. We _can_ make this work. It won't be easy, but we have to try," he paused, half-smiling. "See? You've even got me talking in clichés," he told her ruefully, before becoming serious again. "I can't just walk out of this room now and never be with you again. I can't"

"I can't either," her voice was almost a whisper.

"So don't. Say you'll give us a chance." They were only inches from each other. Hermione stared deep into his silver-grey eyes and saw a pleading honesty.

"Ok," she said. "Let's give it a try."

An ecstatic, disbelieving grin spread across his face. He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her hard, hungrily. "We'll make it work," he whispered into her ear, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

Smiling inanely, she broke away and picked up the end of her trunk. "Now I just have to work out what to tell Harry and Ron," she said, a fleeting anxiety crossing her face. "Uh, Draco…"

"Yes?"

"Just…don't walk around alone for the next few days unless you want your brains to decorate a corridor wall somewhere." She grimaced.

"My brains would make a very nice addition to any corridor, thank you. You really think they'll be that angry?"

"Well, just in case."

He smirked and blew her one last kiss as he walked out of the door.

_What have I let myself in for?_ She thought as she heaved her trunk back towards Gryffindor Tower. But she couldn't feel worried. It felt as though her heart had grown wings and was soaring above the castle, somersaulting with delight.

The rest of the term was going to be interesting, to say the least…


End file.
